Ann Farabee

By Ann Farabee

The phone rang. My world came to a standstill.

My 23 year old brother’s car had gone airborne, as he ran a stop sign. It wrapped around a tree at the bottom of a hill. The car he had dreamed of – and saved for as a teenager – was now a mangled mess.

So was his life.

When I was first allowed to see him in intensive care, he was unrecognizable. The clicking, whooshing, and rhythm of the machines that were keeping him alive paralyzed me with fear.

His brown eyes followed me, as I walked from one side of his bed to the other, trying to adjust anything and everything that I thought may bring him comfort.

I held a cup with a straw for him to sip some water. His mouth had been wired shut, due to injuries. As I was leaned in toward him, with tears sliding down his cheeks, he whispered four words, “I can’t do this.”

I knew he couldn’t do it – because I couldn’t do it, either.
The doctors agreed, for they expressed that his chances for survival were slim.

He was suffering. I was suffering. Our family was suffering.

He got my attention again with his eyes. I saw his lips move. I edged closer and heard three more words, “Pray. For. Me.”

He was trying to stand on my faith at that moment – but my faith was barely existent. I was weak and I knew it.

I knew that prayer was all we had.
And I learned… that prayer was all we needed.

Day after day. Night after night. His words rang out in my heart, “Pray. For. Me.”

His urgent need – and those pleading eyes took me to a place of persistent prayer.

Oh, I prayed. With him. With the family. In his hospital room. In the parking lot. In the hallway. In the car. On the floor. In the bed. In the church. In the grocery store. In my heart. God, heal him. God, heal him. God, heal him.

Days of suffering turned into weeks of suffering, which turned into months of suffering.

One day, I was allowed to wheel him outdoors. I watched him look up at the sky for the first time in months. As he did, this verse came into my spirit, “I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help. My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth.”

Small improvements became big improvements. Eventually, one major physical concern remained. His leg had been crushed in the accident. It was bent beyond repair and had a dangerous infection.

He was sent home, with the assistance of a home health nurse, where efforts to save his leg would continue.

Months crawled by, and we began to know.
The antibiotics were not working.
The leg needed to be amputated.

The three year battle had been lost.
It felt like hope had not turned into victory.
The answer to our prayers was not the answer we prayed for.

Amputation day arrived.

As I walked alongside the bed as they wheeled him to surgery, there was something in his eyes that had not been there three years earlier, when the battle had begun.

It was courage.

They stopped for a second, and our eyes met, as he said, “I can do this.”

He then cracked a joke about being a one-legged man, as the hospital staff surrounding him laughed and shook their heads.

Truth was – he could do it.
And he did.

Thirty-five years later, he is in heaven, and I believe the encouraging words he would send to us would be, “You can do all things through Christ. He will give you strength.”

Amen, brother. Amen.

And if I could say something to him, I think it would be in the form of a question, “How are you enjoying walking around heaven with two legs instead of one?”

I guess victory did come after all.

Ann is a speaker and teacher. Contact her at annfarabee@gmail.com or annfarabee.com

By Ann Farabee

By Ann Farabee

I don’t have time for this!

That was exactly what I was thinking after HOURS ( slight exaggeration) on the phone with the cable company.

But, I was at their mercy.

Because – I felt that having my internet working was important.

And – the internet was NOT connecting to my printer.

I needed it.

Right THEN!

Sigh.

That’s when my advisor on the other end of my phone finally asked, “Have you unplugged it?”

Nooo….

So… I did.

I unplugged it.

I waited.

I plugged it back up.

It worked.

Perfectly.

If only every problem could be resolved so easily.

I have heard it said that almost everything will work again if we unplug it – including us!

Sometimes, we may let the noise of everything around us keep us from being stronger mentally, physically, spiritually, and other ally’s, as well.

Being plugged up can bring energy drains, bugs, memory leaks, overheating, panic, crashes – and a need for a fresh restart.

I honestly sometimes feel as though I am a prisoner to my phone.

Hmmm? Is that why it’s called a cell phone?

Getting unplugged can create more engagement, more awareness, more creativity, more ‘time’ in our day, and a better mood.

We can start over. We can get back on track. We can reboot. We can reset.

Break the cycle.

Thanks to the motivation provided by the cable company representative on the phone that day, I decided to check out unplugging for a day.

No cell phone. No computer. No digital devices.

And guess what?

I discovered that there is a National Day of Unplugging!

And guess what, again?

IT’S TODAY! (That is if you are reading this in the Salisbury Post on Friday, March 6th.)

The annual day of unplugging is the first Friday in March from sundown Friday to sundown on Saturday.

Care to join me? You don’t think I can do it, do you?

Let me know how your unplugging goes at annfarabee@gmail.com.

I’ll get back to you after sundown on March 7.

I may – or may not – let you know if I was successful.

Unplug it.

Ann is a speaker and teacher. Contact her at annfarabee@gmail.com or annfarabee.com

By Ann Farabee

By Ann Farabee

On your mark. Get set. Go.

Year after year, early each morning I would go to my classroom, sit down at my desk, and look over my plans for the day. On that desk, I always tried to set out everything my class would need for that day.

Then, as the school day ended, I would finally sit down at my desk again. By this time, a lot of stuff had accumulated there. Those late afternoons brought organizing, paper grading, preparation, reflection, and closure. Before I left school, my goal was to set before me every thing we would need for the next day.

What happened in the hours between the beginning and the ending of our day? A lot of hard work.

Getting set for each day was important. If I was set for the day, it made a difference:

* I was a better teacher.
* I was a better person.
* The students were better, too.

As I was getting set one morning before students arrived, I was looking for something – not sure what it was – in my right hand desk drawer.

As I rummaged through it, I noticed a Bible.

I took it out.
I opened it.
I immediately saw these words: I have set the Lord before me always: because he is at my right hand. Psalm 16:8

I looked over at that right hand desk drawer.
I looked back at the Bible in my hand.
I read the verse one more time.

I decided that the Bible in my right hand desk drawer opening to that verse when I picked it up was not a coincidence.

In some ways, we all get set for our day, don’t we?
We plan. We work hard. We organize. We make sure everything is ready – for ourselves and for others.

But to set the Lord before us always – is more important than any plans we ever make.

As we begin our day.
As we go through our day.
As our day comes to an end.

Because He is at our right hand.
That is close.
He protects us. He has plans for us.

Whatever our days are like – in a classroom, in a living room, in a prayer room, in a conference room, in a hospital room, in a dorm room – we can set the Lord before us always – and know that He is at our right hand.

At our right hand. Right now.
Amazing, isn’t it?

Let’s set the Lord before us – always.

Ann is a speaker and teacher. Contact her at annfarabee@gmail.com or annfarabee.com

By Ann Farabee

A hero video

By Ann Farabee

His age is 24. His number is 15. His name is Patrick. He plays football.

And faith in God was his message in an interview:

*He had gone to church since he was young.

*He kept going to church when he got older.

*He went to Bible study on Friday.

*He went to chapel on Saturday.

*He walked into the stadium on Sunday.

*He kneeled – and prayed – at the goalpost.

Toward the end of the interview, he said that he liked being at a stage where he could glorify God.

He sure was that night as 148.5 million watched.

Patrick Mahomes, quarterback of the Kansas City Chiefs, had just led his team to a Super Bowl victory.

On that huge world stage in his life – and in that important stage of his life – his faith was displayed.

He was a hero.

He was a man of faith.

A hero – of faith.

I watched in awe, as I said to my family, “Wouldn’t it be amazing to be able to have a world stage like that to share your faith on?”

Hebrews 11 has a list of what is often referred to as heroes of faith. The list includes:

*Sara – who doubted God.

*Noah – who had gotten drunk and embarrassed himself in front of his sons.

*Rahab – who was a moral failure.

*Moses – who was disobedient to God.

*Abraham – who was old when he began his journey of faith – and who lied, deceived, and laughed at God.

Their lives were not perfect, but their purpose was. They were on the stage where God put them – and in the stage of life where God wanted them.

They all had faith. And their faith still impacts us today.

Can we be a hero of faith?

Maybe not to THE world.

But maybe we can to OUR world.

In our ways. In our words. In our work. In our worship.

On a stage – or in a stage – where God can use us.

Our lives are not perfect – but our purpose is.

The world may not see us kneeling at a goalpost, but a child may see us kneeling by their bedside.

The world may not hear us say the name of Jesus to an audience of millions, but some in our world will see – and feel – our heart as we share the love of Christ daily with those God has put in our path.

Don’t feel like a hero?

A.W. Tozer said, “We can be in our day what the heroes of faith were in their day – but remember at the time, they didn’t know they were heroes.”

I believe there can be a hero of faith inside each of us.

Tell someone they are a hero of faith.

Be someone’s hero of faith.

Ann is a speaker and teacher. Contact her at annfarabee@gmail.com or annfarabee.com

By Ann Farabee

By Ann Farabee

On that day, most teen girls at my high school were looking for – or hoping for – a valentine. I was no exception. Throughout the school day – nothing. Hope had begun to dwindle, even though I had been ‘dating’ someone for a few months.

I got home from school. Walked in the front door.

There it was!

A box. A really big box. A really really big box. It seemed to fill the room.

Pink gift wrap covering it. Red bows draping over it. Red ribbons from side to side. Red ribbons from top to bottom.

The box was much taller than this young girl – as I stood there staring up with an incredulous look on my face.

That box was for me!

And there he was – the boyfriend – stepping out from inside the box.

My valentine had been personally delivered.

I suppose a lot of people had gotten chocolate, roses, or both – but I had been given the memory of a lifetime.

I may have been handed chocolate and roses, but I really do not remember.

It was all about the box – the big box.

It was half a century ago, and now I somehow see it more clearly than I did then.

I think of a teen boy:

Wanting to give a special gift.

Getting the courage to tell his parents his idea.

Looking for – and attaining – a refrigerator box.

Using his money from a part-time job to buy a ton of gift wrap, bows, and ribbons.

Getting the courage to tell my parents his plan.

Struggling to wrap a refrigerator box and finish it off with ribbons and bows.

Waiting at my home with my parents for me to arrive.

Valentines is the sweetest, isn’t it?

I feel sure I had never even dreamed at that moment that I would be celebrating February 14 for many years to come with thousands of students over many many years of teaching.

It has never gotten old.

Beautiful fancy cards that were practically embellished with jewels.

Cards stating, “You blow me away!” with a blow-pop attached.

Or “I chews you,” with gum attached.

Or, “You rock!” with pop rocks attached.

Boxes of candy hearts.

Boxes of chocolate.

Flowers.

Cupcakes. Ahh… the cupcakes.

Handwritten love notes slipped secretly onto my desk..

I wish I had saved every single one.

I wonder if they would fill the refrigerator box had I saved it.

My mother handing me a box of chocolates when I was just a little girl.

My children slipping me a valentine they made secretly in their rooms.

My husband handing me a card and telling me he loves me.

Priceless.

Please tolerate my moment of nostalgia for February 14.

I leave you with the words of this special song from the Beatles:

All you need is love.

All you need is love.

All you need is love, love.

Love is all you need.

Happy Valentines Day.

I love you.

Make a memory.

Hold it in your heart… forever.

Ann is a speaker and teacher. Contact her at annfarabee@gmail.com or annfarabee.com

By Ann Farabee